


Anger Management

by Ark666



Category: Grand Theft Auto V
Genre: Anger, Explosions, Fire, slightly off cannon, trevor is angry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-18
Updated: 2018-08-18
Packaged: 2019-06-29 01:56:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15719559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ark666/pseuds/Ark666
Summary: In the mind of Trevor as he talks to Michael for the first time in ten years. Things get heated, and Amanda is a bitch like always. Slightly off cannon just because.





	Anger Management

**Author's Note:**

> A close relative made me angry a few hours ago and writing is how I vent.
> 
> "If you spend your time hoping someone will suffer the consequences for what they did to your heart, then you're allowing them to hurt you a second time in your mind.” 
> 
> ― Shannon L. Alder

It always is easier to feel angry when everything around you makes you feel like your going to fall apart. I always dealt with my problems with anger, booze, meth, and anyone I can shove my dick into, but I’m standing near the cunt that made me think that he was dead. I punch the countertop in front of me.

“What the hell Mikey! I thought that you were dead! I mourned you.” I grovel in my words watching his kid Jimmy go to hide behind his back. I’d growled out the last part of my sentence to see if he caught the emphasis that slippery snake. To see him tense up was enough, just enough to get me going. “You got away with ALL the money and came here to fucking fruitie tutty Los Santos! Got Brad thrown in the slammer just for the money!”

“Wow, wow, wow, T,” Michael gestures his fat arms forward. “No reason to be getting angry now.” That does it!

“You got shot too! I’ve been thinking all this time you got killed because of-”

“I’m in witness protection, still am,” he interrupts me. I take a step back not really focusing much on anything. I almost blurted it out. I still feel like I did get him killed and Brad locked up, but airing that out loud for every asshole in the room to hear ‘hell frickin no’ I won’t. The guilt I still feel is terrible, but it’s nicer to know now that I can direct some of it to him and not feel bad about it. I’m so pissed off, but I’d never hurt Jimmy by doing something stupid in front of him.

Unable to face Michael at the moment I turn to the frutti tutti fruit tart in the room wearing that ridiculous man bun. His head was turned down in shame. I smile at that because the beta knows its place as I the alfa am here. I check him out head to toe purring, “Good lord look at you.” I turn my attention back to his cowering face. “What’s your name?”

“Fabien,” he trembles out his name. I turn back to Michael now that I know for a fact half of the people in the room are very uncomfortable around me.

“Who the fuck is he?” I ask him, he opens his mouth, but instead I hear Amanda calling out from the other side of the room.

“He’s MY yoga instructor!” She barged forward. “You all are ruining my fucking yoga!”

“What is there to like about yoga.” I ask her rhetorically. She crosses arms poised to speak again lips pouting, but I cut her off. “Is that any way to greet a guest in your house. I thought that you did have more manners than that. It’s nice to see you again Amanda.”

“I can’t say the same about you,” She tilts her head up as if to intimidate me, but it ain’t working. She’s still that slut stripper that Michael met at the strip club, and fuck if I couldn't see right through her game.

“That’s too bad. I really did think that we were making progress,” I indulge her pulling a faint smile to my lips. She seems to only get more irritated by my response.

“Really? I thought we were make progress on making you-”

“Part of a threeway. I’m flattered, but I’m the jealous type,” I fully smile at her enjoying the irritation turn into disgust on her face.

“T…” Michael sighs taking a few steps to me. I couldn’t understand why he thought a suit was casual wear. I mean isn’t it uncomfortable, and assholie.

“What!” I spit venomously at him.

“Just go…” he tells me with no more emotion on his face like he would tell a cashier ‘have a good day’ at a store. It hurt real deep, and for some reason I found myself turning around and exiting without thinking at all. I stand on his driveway and get an idea for getting the better of me. 

“I’ll teach that fucking judas a lesson,” I swear I will, and he will reap that punishment. I know which car is his. I pull out my matches because I always found them more reliable than lighters, and open the that square that covers the tank. I rip off part of my shirt and shove as much as I could of it down in there and light it on fire. When I think I ran enough away I turn back and relish the fruit of my labor. It went up in a blaze of glory. The explosion was pretty, but it didn’t just blow up his car, but it also broke his bitch of a wife’s car.

Laughing from my vantage point which was out of sight I enjoy seeing them rush outside to see their cars all busted up and ruined. As much as I would love to go back and gloat to his face about it right now I have other business to take care of, and I’ll make sure to see him tomorrow.


End file.
